


Lemniscate

by Trina_EG



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Aromantic Gaster, Bondage, Elevator Sabotage, F/M, Gaster is NOT the father, M/M, Maury will not be making an appearance in this fic, Mute Gaster, Paternity testing does not account for 'weird science', Plot with Porn Sprinkles, Porn scenes optional, Pre-Core Gaster, Spiders, Versatile Genitals, Violence, breath play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-06-05 09:54:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6700207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trina_EG/pseuds/Trina_EG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time there was a scientist named W. D. Gaster who only wanted to create the best possible home in the Underground for all monsters. He created many grand inventions and made many interesting discoveries. The greatest discovery of all was his most horrifying one. A series of time loops, each one ending with dust and darkness. Each loop was slightly different, each brought him closer to ending the murders, each was a step toward letting all monsters simply continue on with their lives. Until one day trehe wsa nrveer a sntcieits denam ..dW G  [REDACTED]<br/>---<br/>A story detailing the pre-game events of Chara and a slow meander down a desperate path to stop them.</p>
<p>(Future Tags: Sans/Gaster, Papyrus)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Familiarity

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that the NSFW scene is marked with triple asterisks (***). If you would like to skip it and simply continue on with the story in this and any future chapter, look for these symbols that mark the beginning and end of the 'fade out/in'.
> 
> 5/3/16: Ah, I forgot, this fic does have a music playlist if that tickles your fancy. https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLUYc5lGXtVoSB6AAyTVvh07k1Fs8V1H2l

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gaster and Grillby chat at a bar and discuss the future.

Water was wet, the sun shined somewhere and Home was old. All of these were simple statements of fact, though Home was old in the way something that was old still had use. Clean but well used. Cracks in the pavement were stubborn, though some of the worse spots had been repaired. Out-dated architecture was adorned with new decor, a fresh coat of paint, solid doors for doorways that one must nearly squeeze through. 

Home had charm, a certain kind of charm that Wingding Gaster was sure New Home would obtain in time. The new capital was under construction, an effort to relieve some of the overcrowding that had plagued Home in recent generations. Newer buildings, fewer cracks, though it didn’t have Mr. Braise’s Bar and Grill, and it certainly didn’t have a very… hot bartender. As Gaster slid through one of the small doors that were open to the streets he immediately looked for the bartender near the back.

Crisp vest over an untucked button down, rolled up sleeves and a cleaning rag over one shoulder, Grillby was the picture of unassuming confidant, chef and mixer of drinks. The dim conversation of the other patrons seemed to fade as the fire elemental called out to the other without a single sound, ‘Dings!’ Gaster smiled, a real and rare one that showed off his impressively sharp teeth, calling out the other’s name sign in turn. 

Putting his knee on a bar stool, Gaster reached over the bar in a one armed hug, Grillby’s glasses shifting as his cheek brushed against the other’s. The warmth of the fire elemental was pleasant, like sinking into a warm bath, and he sighed as his fingers grazed against his neck. He almost didn’t want to pull away, but then again Grillby did have a job to do.

Settling onto the stool, Gaster’s hands moved fluidly, ‘Is your father in the back?’ His eyes flicked to the side door that led to the kitchen and very tiny office space. It was as cramped as it sounded, but very clean and organized, if cluttered. 

‘Nah, he’s out for a few days. Checking out places to move the bar to in New Home.’ Which would be why Grillby wasn’t trying to look busy as they spoke. No need to pretend when the only ones that would care about a friendly chat while working was off in another corner of the Underground. 

Gaster’s eyebrows raised, ‘You are all moving to New Home?’ 

Grillby crackled as he laughed, ‘The old man doesn’t like it, but he’s keeping his options open. I’m all for it, wouldn’t mind seeing what they’re doing out there. Thinks it’ll have more traffic, better for business.’

Gaster grinned a little more, ‘Well, let us hope he decides to move, because…’ His sign trailed off, playfulness hinted in his eyes as he waited for the elemental to guess. Grillby smiled, almost hesitant in case he was wrong, ‘Your invention?’

Straightening and obviously trying to be entirely accurate in his words, Gaster none the less seemed unable to keep himself from preening like a peacock, ‘The King was very impressed by my invention, if that is what you mean to ask.’

‘So…,’ Grillby started, spreading his hands out as if waiting until he finished his own sentence, ‘Royal Scientist?’

‘Let us not get ahead of ourselves here, I was simply asked to go to New Home to utilize it in helping with construction. I need more than this to be a Royal Scientist,’ Gaster again responded with the more factual route, but he would be lying if he said it wasn’t close enough to taste. Grillby seemed to share this sentiment.

‘Doesn’t matter, it’s only a matter of time and it deserves a shot,’ Grillby signed as he turned to look for a particular bottle behind him among the vast, tightly packed array.

‘Only,’ Gaster began before tapping softly on the bar, catching his attention once more, ‘Only if. You have a shot with me.’

Grillby looked around the bar conspiratorily, a mischievous grin on his face. Of course he wasn’t supposed to be drinking while working, but his father wasn’t here to catch him. So long as none of the patrons noticed… He nodded and produced two shot glasses, one in front for Gaster and one hidden behind the ledge of the countertop.

Pouring alcohol in each, Gaster raised his shot glass a few inches as took hold of his own signing with one hand, ‘To the new Royal Scientist.’ 

Gaster’s glass clinked on the bar top as he gave the elemental an exasperated look until Grillby coaxed out a grin with a little shake of his shot glass. He sighed and held it back up, signing one handed in turn, ‘To easing the hardships of all monsters and improving our lives as a whole.’ Grillby considered this for a moment, then shrugged.

The scientist tipped back his shot, almost choking as he watched Grillby take a quick look around, crouch and quickly down his own before standing back up with an innocent whistle. No amount of innocent whistling was going to cover up the small flare when the alcohol went down his throat. Gaster coughed, unable to trust himself to swallow with the laugh that threatened to make a scene out of the alcohol. ‘Wasting booze is bad luck,’ the bartender signed before putting a hand on Gaster’s shoulder. 

Eventually the alcohol made its way down and he caught his breath, grinning as he shook his head. Warmth pressed against his jaw as Grillby brushed a thumb against his skin before bringing his hand away to sign normally once again, ‘So I’m right in thinking it’s your… magic saver? What are you calling it?’

‘The basic component is a b-a-t-t-e-r-y. It does store magic, but the main function is its conversion of specific magical energy types into raw energy.’ Signing faster, Gaster’s enthusiasm for his new project was starting to show. ‘I am still working on various applications, construction seems to be the simplest. Attaching it to machines means there is no need for monsters to expend their own magic. While it does need to be charged, the conversion means you or I could technically help build New Home without having the ability to move large objects at will. It is less taxing on individuals, making construction faster.’

Grillby had taken on a soft grin as he listened to the scientist’s explanation, chin in his hand with his elbow on the bar, signing with his free hand, ‘I’m proud of you.’ 

Gaster scoffed as he rolled his eyes, ‘That is sappy, even for you.’

Putting his hands up in defeat, Grillby crackled as he laughed, ‘What can I say? You’re gushing about science, it’s cute.’ 

‘I do not gush.’

‘Liar,’ Grillby flicked the sign with a smirk. He paused a moment to consider his next words carefully. Being a bartender meant you heard a lot of people’s opinions on a lot of different subjects, and word travelled fast in the Underground. At the same time, he didn’t want to rain on his friend’s parade. ‘You know, people are talking about it. Some like the idea; I’m all for it. But dad’s been going on about how it’ll put people like us out of business. Kill jobs, people staying inside more, replace us all with machines.’

‘Sounds like he is reaching,’ Gaster dismissed, though his grin was gone. He sat straighter, defensively shifting his posture before sighing and shaking his head. ‘It is impersonal energy. It can not replace everything a monster can do, it is simply a force. It has no soul. I could never build something that can heal as well as others or cook as well as you do.’ 

‘I believe it,’ Grillby assured him before giving a casual shrug. ‘That’s just how some people think. I know what you’re doing is a good thing.’ 

Gaster grinned, turning his face away as he relaxed, glancing back up at him, ‘Thank you.’ 

Grillby simply smiled, pouring another shot for the two of them with less duplicity this time around. Setting the bottle down, his hands began to move once more, ‘It sounds like you’re going to have less free time. Just leaving me with my shots and my dad’s rants.’

‘Hardly,’ Gaster scoffed as he signed, ‘I am simply going to be away for a bit. I will come see you of course.’ 

‘Don’t lie to me again.’ Grillby signed all of this with a smirk, though both monsters knew instinctively that this was a real concen. No matter how he was trying to play it off, it was the doubt that was starting to dig under Gaster’s skin. Whatever playfulness was still hanging onto the scientist slipped away as he scowled, his hands clipped and precise.

‘I would not lie about this. This opportunity is important to me, but I would not simply forget about a friend.’

Grillby’s warm hands closed around each of Gaster’s, a gesture that would have had him jerk away in an almost visceral, gut reaction had it come from anyone else. He would not have his only means of communication taken away from him so abruptly, but the sentiment was clear and at least the heat felt nice. Removing his hands after a few seconds, the elemental signed calmly.

‘Relax, I know. I’m sorry I joked about it.’ 

Sighing, Gaster deflated from his defensive posture, running his hand across his scalp. ‘No, I apologize. I over reacted.’ He took a deep breath, eyes wandering to the freshly poured shot. With a small smile, he lifted it and signed with one hand, ‘Shall we drink on it?’

Grillby grinned, picking up the shot, ‘You’re not trying to get me drunk, are you?’

‘May I remind you it was not I that poured either shot.’

‘I can’t argue with that,’ Grillby crackled in laughter, thinking of a new toast. ‘To staying in touch, and remembering where we’ve been.’ 

Succinct and fitting, Gaster had no qualms about drinking to that sentiment.

\---

Closing time meant many things for the Underground. Fewer people were in the streets, shops and bars shut their doors, the air was just a little cooler. In ages past it would be called ‘night time’, though now it was called a few different names. ‘Closing time’, ‘quiet time’, ‘home time’, ‘last call’. Some even called it ‘lover’s time’. Regardless of the vernacular, it all meant the same thing, quiet conversations and a time to sleep. 

Grillby and Gaster had spent most of it walking and catching up after doing a good deal of drinking once the bar closed, each watching the other’s steps carefully as their unsteady footing navigated the uneven streets. The fire that still burned in lamps played on their faces as they laughed and signed sloppily, easily the quietest monsters walking about. Eventually their conversation and feet turned to getting back to Grillby’s room, where the pair simply were not quiet enough for the elemental’s liking.

Every step on the metal stairs that snaked up the outside of the bar to the top floor seemed to give off a miniature alarm to their ears, Grillby constantly signing to be quiet as Gaster argued behind him that he was being perfectly quiet, though not every word was picked up by the man leading the way. The railing creaking gave away that Gaster had leaned against it, clearly unsteady and very convinced that it would be far better to take off his shoes. Exasperated Grillby turned, signing from the middle landing that it was fine, don’t, please, all to one handed dismissals of ‘it is okay, I have this, no, it is okay’. 

The scientist actually managed to get one shoe off without a sound. Until he set it down with a loud clank on the landing and found his failure to be absolutely hilarious. Gaster shook with laughter as Grillby came back down two steps, signing as he begged with the faintest of grins on his face, ‘Gaster, please, you lightweight shit, your shoes are fine and my mom is sleeping, please.’ He took Gaster’s face gently in his hands, unable to stop himself from chuckling as Gaster just grinned at him.

‘You are a grown man,’ Gaster mouthed slowly. It was a rare occurrence he did so, opting instead to be understood clearly through signing or writing, especially in front of those who could not understand his signs. Grillby was an exception. He paused before responding in a soft, deep voice, “Yes. I’m a grown man. Who lives above his parents.” Maybe by repeating it he would get through the haze? Gaster’s silent chuckle didn’t give him much hope.

Grillby’s hands slipped away as Gaster shifted quietly to sit on the landing, signing ‘shoe’ in front of him as he lifted the last trapped foot to untie it. Crouching quickly, the bartender sat behind him, pushing his hands away as he bent his leg a little further so he himself could reach the laces. Signing more protests and assurances of his motor skills, Gaster finally surrendered with a huff and leaned back against Grillby’s chest to wait for his shoe to be untied.

Gaster tipped his head back against the elemental’s shoulder, watching his hands as Grillby put the shoe next to the other and signed, ‘Better?’ He curled and stretched his long toes, claws clacking against the stairs before he turned kissed Grillby on the cheek. Flames flared briefly as he smiled a little more, ‘Let’s head upstairs.’ 

Grillby stood, shoes in one hand as he used his other to help Gaster stand without falling over. He was right, Gaster seemed to glide up the stairs with his shoes off, nothing but the soft clicking of nails on metal to give him away. He waited at the upper landing for Grillby to slowly make his way up, holding the door open until Gaster was inside.

It was a small place, roughly half the size of the bar. Clean for the most part and organized, he had found room for a little area to make food and coffee, a corner to put a rack for hanging clothes, a decent sized bed in the middle. It was never made, but even Gaster had never seen the point of making up a bed that was going to be slept in in less than a day.

Gaster made a beeline for the bed, sighing as he turned and flopped backward onto it, staring at the bare stone ceiling. A light thump near the door as Grillby set the scientist’s shoes near the door, shuffling as he nudged off his own shoes, and the bed dipped with the soft rustle of fabric. Grillby straddled his legs, leaning down to kiss him, sliding his tongue past Gaster’s lips. His tongue was hot and spicy in an odd way, like cinnamon or curry, as it searched for something to tangle in. Gaster was all too eager to provide, curling his own tongue around the flame as he brought his hands up to capture Grillby behind his head.

Gaster kept him there, right where he wanted him, fingertips pressing against his scalp before playing with the flames that flicked around it. Never was the bartender too hot to touch, not when he wanted to be touched, but the heat was almost stifling, pressing against his chest until he finally had to press his head against the bed to break the kiss, panting to catch his breath. His tongue glowed softly with a purple light that matched the color of his soul, illuminating his face as he grinned.

Gaster let his nails lightly graze his cheek before spelling with one hand, ‘E-a-g-e-r.’ Grillby chuckled, flames crackling softly. He lifted a hand from the bed, ‘You too.’

***

Gaster captured the elementals hand in his own, bringing it closer to his lips, his soul tongue snaking out to slowly lick his fingers. A shudder ran through Grillby, though he didn’t have long to savor it. The hand had quickly changed its mind, moving instead to his chest and pushing him into a sitting position, knees still on either side of Gaster. Fingers trailed down to the buttons of his vest, Gaster calmly worked them through their holes, letting the vest fall open.

This was the part he wanted to watch in full view. Bring his hands behind his head, Gaster simply watched as he materialized new ones, disembodied and also the color of his soul. They started with the vest, sliding over the button down underneath to move it off of Grillby’s shoulders, the elemental moving his arms just enough to let them fall to the floor. One soul hand tipped his face up by the chin before they both worked in tandem to undo the buttons that held his shirt closed. 

Slipping under the shirt once they reached the bottom, all that was to be touched underneath was firm torso and fire. Gaster couldn’t help but shudder as he felt the flames through his soul hands, could even feel the fire pressing through them as they sent little jolts of pleasure up his spine. His eyes nearly closed before he remembered the beautiful sight in front of him. Apparently his hands had lingered too long for Grillby’s liking, shrugging the shirt off the rest of the way before taking Gaster by the waist and lifting him further up the bed. 

Hooking his thumbs under the scientist’s turtleneck Grillby removed it in one smooth motion, tossing it to the floor and running his tongue slowly up Gaster’s smooth pale chest. Arching against the bed, Gaster let out a silent moan, pools of heat radiating where the hands gripped his waist. Grillby, focused on lavishing his tongue against the skin, intent on drawing out every shudder and pant. Gaster seemed to have other plans.

The tentacles slithering up Grillby’s arms seemed innocent enough, until he was being pulled back into his sitting position, panting as his object of attention was suddenly pulled away. Two thick tentacles had wrapped around his shoulders, seeming to materialize from behind Gaster’s back. ‘Slow down,’ Gaster signed with his hands above his head, a devious grin on his face as Grillby huffed but stayed as he was.

‘That’s hardly fai-,’ Grillby’s signing was cut off as the tentacles had wrapped up his arms and slid into his palms. They guided his arms above his head, a second pair splitting off and wrapping around Grillby’s chest. Whatever complaint Grillby had was melted away as he wrapped his hands around the tips of the coy tentacles, grinding down against Gaster, pressing the bulge still trapped in his pants against him.

The tentacles squeezed gently in tandem, slowly and steadily snaking through the flames and over his body before one ventured around Grillby’s neck. Sliding up his chin and pressing against his mouth, he was all too eager to open it and press his tongue against the smooth underside. It was all the invitation Gaster needed to slide it into his mouth, his breath hitching when he felt how much hotter it was inside.

The spare tentacle wrapped downward, sliding into Grillby’s pants and briefly considered teasing his cock before carefully unbuttoning the front of his pants instead. The smooth tentacle brushing against sensitive skin couldn’t be avoided, making the elemental buck against it and grind, trying to coax more out of Gaster. All that he gave was a grin and a lustful stare as he took it all in from the comfort of the bed. 

Perhaps he would give Grillby just a bit more. Hands materialized at his own pants, unbuttoning them and slowly dragging them down, pushing his hips against Grillby to help them along. The touch made him grind back down, a noise like a growl and a crackle escaping his throat, looking down to Gaster as the tentacle continued to occupy his mouth. With his hips finally bare a final tentacle was revealed between his legs, thicker and heavier than the others, draped against the crook of his thigh as it writhed slowly. 

The tentacle cock lifted languidly to circle around the head that just peaked over the edge of Grillby’s undone pants, catching the pre that beaded at the top and leaving the faintest of purple trails along the underside. His body jerked and flared at the coy touch, like a spring struggling to fling itself from its casing. Gaster took this sight in, tongue licking slowly along his lips, finally letting him loose.

The tentacles around his arms slipped away like silk, the one in his mouth sliding out in one smooth motion with a wet sound, slithering away from his neck and down his chest. He was finally free to do as he wanted, and Gaster was not disappointed. Grillby’s hands immediately went to his own pants, sliding them down his hips. Grabbing the other’s legs and bending them around his waist, Grillby crawled forward to leave his pants behind, lifting Gaster by his back and settling him in his lap.

Their mouths crashed against each other, tongues all too eager to taste and twine, Gaster’s tentacles wrapping around the other’s back as his cock wrapped around Grillby’s hard length. Finally there was blissful reward to the tension the scientist had been building, the squeeze from his tentacle cock drawing out a moan and a crackle from the elemental. The heat that emanated off of Grillby was thrilling, like the seconds before deciding if the warmth was going to burn or invite you to sink in. 

Gaster ground his hips forward, cock sliding up and down the other’s rhythmically as it squeezed, the pleasure forcing him to break the kiss and gasp for breath. Grillby’s hands slipped lower, grabbing his ass and using him as leverage to thrust against the coils faster. Gaster’s breath hitched, coming out in a shaking, forced huff as he tipped his head back, all but inviting Grillby to go for the throat. Teeth like heated points of a fork teased at the skin, pulling jerks and shudders out of Gaster as his eyes closed tight, making his head swim and setting his senses ablaze. 

Gaster’s hands slid back behind Grillby’s head and neck, finding little to grip between his fingers but urging him on nonetheless. His tentacle cock slid up and down the slick length, tip circling around his head at the down swing of every thrust. Gaster could feel his pleasure starting to peak, unsure of exactly how long he would be able to hang on. 

But he wanted something to do with his mouth. Anything at all, something to taste or bite or lose his breath on, and Grillby knew this all too well about him. Giving his neck one last lick, Grillby brought a hand up to cup the back of Gaster’s head, tipping it down and pulling it close to press his lips to the other’s, tongue shoving into his mouth and catching the other’s soul tongue. 

Gaster would moan, gasp, even whine if he could, but to feel his body do all of these things instead was just as intoxicating. Gaster lost his steady rhythm, hands digging into Grillby’s back in a death grip, cumming hard in a shaking mess of lost senses as it dripped from his tentacle cock, sizzling wherever it slid against the elementals cock. 

Grillby hung on to the shuddering mess that clung to him with tentacles and hands, the sizzling from the cum sending him over the edge as he drowned his moans in the other’s mouth, his hot cum painting Gaster’s stomach, his hips jerking through his orgasm. 

Eventually the kiss ended out of desperate need for both men to breathe, their hips slowing, Gaster resting his head against Grillby’s shoulder as the other tipped his head back. The tentacles disappeared, leaving just the spent and sweaty scientist to lay against the other’s body for support. Grillby huffed as he grinned, guiding him backwards to lay on the bed before flopping to the side of Gaster in a content sigh. Though not before landing awkwardly on Gaster’s open hand.

‘Ow,’ he mouthed, though his expression didn’t match the sentiment in the slightest, far too pleased to care about much of anything. Grillby crackled in a chuckle, moving the hand himself and sinking further into the bed beside him. The air was beginning to feel too cool against Gaster’s skin, anywhere that didn’t face the elemental by his side. There was a simple solution to this of course; he draped his hand across Grillby’s waist, tangling his legs in the others. Briefly he thought that now it was too damn hot, and perhaps he tried to sign something, though he wouldn’t be able to remember if he did as he started to drift in and out of light, heady sleep.

***

Gaster’s head was far too heavy, and in fact, where in the fuck was his head? Was he right side up, did he completely flip over in the bed? Slowly he forced his eyes open and two answers presented themselves. One, he was practically on the edge of the bed, leg hanging off the bed and threatening to take the rest of him. Two, opening his eyes was a mistake.

He shut them almost as fast as he’d opened them, hissing through his teeth and resigning himself to never moving again. That smell of coffee that wandered in the air however, that could convince him otherwise. Slowly Gaster tested opening his eyes once more, focusing instead on the opposite side of the room. Grillby was already dressed, coffee mug in one hand with another steaming on the counter top. He was looking at him, smirking as he signed, ‘Lightweight.’ 

Simply closing his eyes again, he took a deep breath and slowly arched his leg back onto the bed, laying flat when it landed with a soft thud, signing slowly, ‘If you will not let me die in peace, at least be nice about it.’ Grillby crackled as he chuckled, but then remained silent. No tap to call his attention, no soft words spoken, simply silence. Eventually the curiosity bit at him; perhaps Grillby didn’t know Gaster still had his eyes closed?

Once more he opened them to the elemental simply waiting, finally signing, ‘See? Not dead.’ Gaster’s eyebrows furrowed, so easily played, his only response being the universal symbol for, ‘Fuck off’.

Laughing once more, Grillby set his mug down and crossed the room to the scientist who was insistent on dying, leaning down and pressing his lips briefly to his forehead, ‘Gotta go open the bar.’ Gaster cringed slightly at the heat, far too hot to be appreciative. Not that Grillby seemed to mind much.

When he turned to leave a question that had been nagging at the back of Gaster’s mind leapt to the forefront. He tapped the bed twice with the flat of his hand. Grillby glanced back, pausing just before the door, watching the sloppy but fast signs, ‘Do you actually think your father will move to New Home?’

Grillby smirked but glanced down sadly, taking a deep breath before shaking his head. Gaster’s face fell for only a second before he smirked in turn, ‘It would seem I may have to be a terrible friend to be a good scientist.’ 

The smirk turned into a grin, Grillby’s eyebrows raising, ‘You hate coffee so much that you’re never going to see me again?’ 

Rolling his eyes and sitting up had never felt more painful in his life, but the sheer level of annoyance at Grillby’s dismissiveness demanded it be done. Gaster’s hands were clipped and fast, ‘No, I will be seeing you again, for the final time, but you have-’

Grillby’s stopped him with a short sign and a soft smile, ‘Dings. When did you get it in your head that you’ve gotta be someone else?’ Gaster’s hands were still, confusion loud on his face. ‘Do you think you suddenly changed? This is you. Stop thinking that doing what you love, being who you are, makes you evil.’

In a rare event, Gaster couldn’t find words to say. Even his face, a loud talker in its own right, was a clash of sadness and surprise and relief. Eventually Gaster smiled, finding stand-in words. ‘Stop being sappy.’

Grillby chuckled, shaking his head, ‘Come see me when you leave, I’ll make you some breakfast. And be careful on the stairs.’ Turning to leave, he was mindful about opening the door quickly to limit the light and closing it quietly. 

Gaster took a long, deep breath, rubbing his temples and eventually working himself up to stand and shuffle toward the coffee that waited for him. At some point he knew he would have to finish and get dressed, hopefully with nothing too telling on them that couldn’t be covered up. For now though, he would sip his coffee, listen to the world waking up outside, and pray his headache would only get better from here.


	2. Motivation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gaster shares an exciting new machine with Asgore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist: https://youtu.be/eGfhWOOKSsg?list=PLUYc5lGXtVoSB6AAyTVvh07k1Fs8V1H2l

Soft clicks of footsteps rang down stone halls as the royal scientist made his way slowly, far too busy taking in the sights to be in much hurry. Lamps that never stopped burning cast the walls in a honey-dipped light, playing along the motifs and aphorisms carved into them. They served as both chronicles of past events and clues to the various puzzles one might stumble upon hidden amongst the vines and waterways. The little light that trickled from the surface filtered through stained glass windows, casting a rainbow haze onto the floor that Gaster watched crawl up and down his legs as he moved through them.

All of this was grand fanfare for the humble and endearing king he was on his way to see. While entirely worthy of such grandeur, to know the monster behind the imposing figure almost made liars out of the decor. If it were not the fact that the palace of Home was a genuinely beautiful sight.

Gaster lost himself in his thoughts and observations as his steps carried him forward toward the garden where he met with Asgore to report his progress and discuss future advancements. These ‘future advancements’ were the main topic he hoped to be discussing with the king, and if he wasn’t careful about it Gaster might catch himself with too much spring in his step.

A faint smile was hard to keep from his face as the large door marking the entrance to the gardens came into view. The soft creaking of wood announced his entrance to the large space within. Hardy bushes and yellow flowers grew wherever they willed within, a bubbling fountain providing the water for their caretaker’s pail. High up near the ceiling suspended balls of soft light coaxed deep color from the plants, a tall tree rising high in the center. Amongst it all was a tall and broad figure watering the flowers tenderly in an embroidered tunic and soft pants.

When Asgore turned to look Gaster swept his hands upward as he signed, ‘Your highness,’ with a small flourish, extending it into a graceful bow. He rose just as the king moved across the garden, placing his large hands on the scientists upper arms. The king was a hugger, though he had quickly learned that Gaster was most certainly not, taking the hint since and toning his natural inclinations down.

“Dr. Gaster, thank you very much for meeting with me today,” Asgore spoke genuinely, though he said this every time he came to report on his progress. The tenth time, the fifteenth time, the twenty fifth; Gaster had lost count at this point, but he could not remember a time when he didn’t greet him in earnest. Asgore returned his hands in front of him, signing with the careful deliberation of someone who had been practicing, ‘How are you?’

Gaster’s smile warmed as he signed slowly in turn, ‘I am well.’ He would never expect Asgore to learn his language, not when it took time away from his duties and was used by so few, but the few signs he did know were endearing. ‘Very good,’ the king signed enthusiastically before gesturing to one of the benches, “Please come sit down, Dr. Gaster. Your preference hasn’t changed, has it?”

Licorice tea, no sugar, no milk, simply the sweetness of the herb. Shaking his head, Gaster crossed over the the bench, settling next to the teacup that held the darker liquid, steam still curling into the air. Asgore sat next to him, picking up his own cup on the opposite end and taking a quiet sip. A few quiet moments passed as he relished the taste of his tea and the sight of his garden before looking to the scientist, “How is your research coming along?”

Digging into his pocket, Gaster removed a small notebook and opened it in front of him. Purple soul hands materialized from his own physical ones as he pulled them away to dive once more into another pocket. Removing a pencil from it, he offered it to a third soul hand that went straight to work scratching words onto the paper. ‘Wonderful. As you know, many of the other scientists have been able to scale a battery in size and make it more efficient. Other machines that utilize this power have also been created. In fact, I believe one is working on a cabinet for food that will keep it cold.’

“...Cold?”

Gaster chuckled silently, adding, ‘I am sure we would also be able to produce one to keep food warm as well. Obyt has a particular fondness for ice cream.’

Asgore let out a loud, deep laugh, “That’s inspiration at work! ”

Gaster smiled as he watched, the King’s joy infectious as always. It was true though, anywhere one could find inspiration for something new was worth while. Even something as mundane as an ice cream craving. Any new creation had merit on its own and as a stepping stone to future works. Picking up his tea, Gaster took a large sip as the soul hand began to move once more.

‘My own research on the nature of souls has been going,’ the hand paused, ‘as expected. I have collected a great deal of data on the manifestations of our souls through magic and how it relates generationally, as well as studying the occurrences of crystalline souls. While this data I have collected is essential to sifting out a common thread,’ again a pause, ‘I have found very little to answer exactly what a soul is.’

Asgore wrapped his hands around his tea cup, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his thighs, “Do not worry, doctor. I know you will find more answers in time.”

Gaster gave a small smile, thankful for the king’s confidence. He could only hope that the king’s confidence would carry over into his new project. Now was as good a time as any to present it. ‘Time that, I believe, would be better spent focusing on another project with a closer destination.’

His eyes looked to Asgore as he watched the hands write the words, careful to not stop lest he be caught watching the king for his reaction. ‘A new project, one that I am ex-’ The hand hesitated as Gaster caught himself, yes, openly gushing about science. He wanted Asgore’s honest opinion, not simply one that would please him. ‘-cited about, and one that I believe would benefit every single monster in the Underground.’

Asgore lit up, looking from the book to the royal scientist as he set his teacup beside him, “Well don’t kill me with suspense,” he put a hand on Gaster’s arm as he straightened, earnest plain on his face. “Tell me, my friend.”

Was he blushing? Oh fucking- Gaster straightened, telling himself to stop acting like a teenager on his first date, thankful that Asgore’s attention returned to the notebook when the pencil began to move.

‘I have found a way to turn mundane heat into raw magical energy based on the same basic principles of my battery. I have developed a prototype on a small scale utilizing the volcanic activity in the Hotlands, and have found it to be scaleable. Given the time and resources, enormously scaleable. Continuous, powerful energy that can be utilized by any machine without having to be charged. Not only this, but with the research I have done on magical energy, I am certain that I can safely and quickly transfer this energy to anywhere it may be needed in seconds. Certainly enough to cover New Home and the Hotlands, the new settlements in Waterfall and Snowdin, and possibly even parts of Home.’

Gaster forced himself to pause here, imagining that perhaps this was a great deal of information to take in. He couldn’t quite read Asgore’s expression, though he could have sworn he saw wonder, curiosity, or perhaps that was simply his own elation clouding his judgement. Regardless the urge to continue gnawed at his soul, ultimately a weak man when presented with his own enthusiasm. ‘That is not even the best part.’

The notebook moved into view between them as Gaster turned to face him, his breathing faster as if he could barely contain his excitement. ‘I believe, after the machine is built and the transfer is established, these ties could also transfer information at the same rate as energy. Imagine, in mere moments, words sent from New Home to Snowdin or Home. No need to wait days for a response. With a bit of creativity, perhaps even voices. Pictures even; I do not have the faintest idea what the limits would be once machines are built to accommodate this information exchange.’

Asgore didn’t say a word. Whether he was stunned and speechless or found something disagreeable, Gaster could not tell. The king looked to the ceiling and he felt his stomach drop. Perhaps this was not good enough to focus on? Too forward, too much to think about, too focused on convenience and not focused on… what? Something more important?

“What a time to be alive,” Asgore murmured as he stared up at the high ceilings as the sun lights danced slowly along the ceiling. Gaster’s eyes were not on the ceiling, only on the king as he waited like a child seeking approval. Asgore finally looked back to him, beaming as he placed his hands on the royal scientist’s arms warmly. “Thank you.”

For all of his bravado and energy, the depth of the words forced Gaster’s mind to halt like he’d run into a wall. Perhaps he was starting to get used to the praise and deference in his field, but genuine gratitude still seemed to catch him off guard. It still surprised him. Snatching himself from the brink of poetic introspection, he chuckled soundlessly, ‘Thank me in a few years when it is finished. It is a bit premature at the moment.’

Asgore laughed, giving his arms a soft squeeze, “Dr. Gaster, I believe in your new project, and in you. Anything you need, let me know and I will do my best to give it to you.”

Gaster smiled warmly, bringing his hand to his lips and pushing it away, ‘Thank you.’

Asgore removed his hands, taking a deep breath and sighing as he looked wistfully to the ceiling. Gaster turned and faced forward once again, calmly picking up his tea and sipping. Internally, he was practically giddy. There were a thousand things to do, and each one sent a thrill up his spine as he planned it. There was groundwork to be done, surveying various areas most suitable, blueprints to draw up. He was not so young as to imagine that this project would always feel exhilarating, but for now he reveled in it.

He nearly missed Asgore’s soft murmur, “Continuous, powerful energy…”

Glancing to the king, he was concerned to see that Asgore looked conflicted and perhaps even a touch sad. The notebook moved in front of them, soul hand writing, ‘What is on your mind?’ Asgore looked to the notebook and chuckled at having been caught in his thoughts. ‘You can not say that this new creation is all there is.’

“Am I that easy to read?” Gaster grinned and raised an eyebrow, writing nothing but speaking clearly with the look alone. He took a deep breath as he searched for the words that seemed to plague his mind. “Do you believe this machine would have enough energy to… break the barrier?”

Honestly, that was… not a question Gaster was expecting. Perhaps he should have, Asgore always seemed to entertain the thought of monsters returning to the surface. His own opinion on the matter was quite the opposite. Nonetheless, he gave the question serious consideration.

‘I would not be able to say for sure. There is the story; a human soul and a monster soul to leave. Seven souls to break it entirely. If this is a steadfast rule, or even entirely true, it would take some study of the barrier itself in order to determine this. I do not know the limitations of my invention, but speaking entirely on conjecture, I do not believe sheer power alone is enough to break the barrier. Perhaps something could be built utilizing the power to remove it, or work around it, but I have now moved on from conjecture to fantasy.’

Asgore shook his head, “Forget I said anything, my friend. I was discussing it with Gerson recently and he believes it is best to stay here.”

‘I would have to agree with Gerson. It is not safe on the surface, and I do not think it ever will be. There is nothing stopping the humans from repeating their actions in the past. Nothing has changed. They would still fear our magic, and we are still at mercy to their fear.’

Asgore raised a hand to stop him, giving a small smile as he nodded, “I know. I understand. It is for the best that we remain here.”

But no. To accept the limitation, fear, uncertainty as fact was giving into hopelessness. There is nothing that could not be accomplished with enough time and knowledge. If hope is what Asgore desired, he would give him hope, in any form he wished.

‘But I do not serve Gerson. I serve you, and all monsters. If your wish is to leave the Underground, I will find a way to do so. I will find ways to fight the humans or protect ourselves against them. If you wish to remain here; if you wish for daylight and moonlight, I will create it. I will find the space to grow and expand, the means to see true stars, the ability to mold this place into whatever is desired. Anything you want me to create, I will create it, and my only hope is that I do not fall before I may complete it.’

Silence. Pure, still silence with the scratching ceased and Asgore at a loss for words. Then a shift as Asgore leaned forward, wrapping his arms around the scientist and pulling him into a hug. That is to say Gaster was pulled in sideways by the equivalent of a very soft, strong bear. After a moment though, he sighed and smiled, resting his cheek against the other’s chest. This was fine, truth can always change after all.

“Create your machine, bring hope and joy to the Underground.” The king looked down to Gaster, loosening his arms, “That is my will.”

This task is one he could accept happily. Gaster gave a small bow of his head, bringing his own hands forward to slowly sign, ‘As you wish.’


	3. Facilitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gaster meets with the Mother of Spiders to discuss business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that the porn scene may be skipped, the 'fade out' designated by triple asterisks. 
> 
> Music Playlist: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Joqw2FPHbdM&index=8&list=PLUYc5lGXtVoSB6AAyTVvh07k1Fs8V1H2l

The signal was a simple one; a single flower placed on his desk. It didn’t seem to matter what ‘desk’ he was near at the time. Whether in his small laboratory at New Home, his rudimentary one at the half-finished Core or wherever he happened to be staying when he was in Home. They always found him when they had something to sell. From there, the process was simple, if lengthy. He would make his way to Home, tuck the white flower in the pocket of his long coat and set off. If one walked far enough and knew where they were going, they would eventually make their way into the spider cave.

 

Rough and uneven in the beginning, this was simply to deter unwanted guests from entering. Once inside the caves themselves seemed to morph from rough stone to simple, chiseled tunnels and dim light where he began to see the first few spiders. Some larger, some smaller, each with their own little alcove or niche furnished with the softest silken furniture and whatever discarded trinkets caught their fancy. Unfortunately he could not allow his eyes to wander for too long, instead keeping them glued to the ground where he walked, stepping cautiously to make sure he did not accidentally injure anyone.

 

Further in the alcoves started getting larger and more complex, serving as public spaces. Some were for open markets, some for small libraries, yet others were small parks for young spiders to play as the older ones watched. It was one of these that he caught a sign being waved at him by a few of the younger ones. On it was a single word ‘Broken’ with a rough picture of one of his old batteries and a sad face. 

 

Stopping near the park, Gaster very carefully crouched, eyes scanning every inch of where he intended to be as various spiders skittered out of his way. Slowly getting on his knees and elbows, the spiders put aside the sign and brought the battery no larger than a die in front of the royal scientist. He turned it in place, pointing from the battery to the closest spider and made a motion of a door opening with the flat of his hand. The youngster seemed to understand well enough, skittering forward and tapping the latch that held the panel closed before skittering back again.

 

Gaster picked the battery back up in his hand, the other digging around  in his pocket for a miniature light. The children clicked as they backed away at the sight of it, turning around and seeming to cover their faces. The clicking travelled to the older ones nearby, and Gaster could swear he could almost understand the grumbles and groans from those in attendance. He held up his light for a little, making sure everyone near by could see it before clicking it on.

 

Gripping it gently between his sharp teeth so it was pointed at the battery, he fished back into his pocket for a magnifying glass, holding it close to one eye as he tried to determine what was wrong with the tiny machine. Never let it be said that Gaster didn’t come prepared for one of these trips. After some searching he had found a part of the inner chassis had been knocked loose, the damage of a stray ball no doubt, and was pulling at the inner wiring. 

 

Brushing a fingertip along the insides to discharge some of the remaining energy, the shock no more than a bit of static to him, he set the battery down. Gaster put away the glass and clicked off the light, pocketing it as the younger ones moved toward him to see what his verdict was. Removing a large pad of paper and pencil, he laid it on the ground and began to write instructions for a quick patch job, one that he would never be able to do without his tools but was entirely possible for tiny spider legs. A couple were bold enough to climb onto the paper, attempting to read his message before he had finished. He shooed them away gently with a finger, waiting for them to clear off before propping it up. 

 

They took a moment to read, then began to gather around the battery, looking for themselves at the wires and chassis. An older spider skittered over, waving a leg at a few of the younger ones that had swarmed around it and listening to the chittering of three of them as the pointed and waved at the machine. With a bit of silk and some help, they had the chassis repositioned and the wires reattached and wrapped.

 

They closed the latch and the older spider moved back to their perch nearby as the children tapped at the tiny battery. When it clicked on and blinked, they eagerly moved it back to where it was connected to a small wire. Lights around the park flickered on with a dim glow, which was more than enough for them to eagerly retrieve their soccer ball.

 

The words on the page disappeared as Gaster returned both items to his pocket, a small giggle catching his attention down the hallway. There stood little miss Muffet in a new green and white dress, frills and lace of silk and pristine white stockings. Standing up just as carefully as he had crouched, he gave a low bow to the spider child who curtsied in turn before holding out her hand expectantly. 

 

When he had first been offered to do business with the spiders he was ill prepared for this moment. Having no gift to give the spider child, he ended up lost for hours with a cheeky little note at the exit that told him to try again next week and to bring a gift for ‘her’ daughter. It nearly convinced him that the effort wasn’t worth it, but how very wrong he was. Spiders could go where very few could, knew the small crevices and holes that were caved in centuries ago. And since then, he was never caught without a gift.

 

He palmed the gift in his hand and placed it in hers, keeping it covered before revealing it with a small twist of the wrist. A beautiful hair clip of silver and pearl. Muffet cooed in delight, bringing it closer to inspect the intricate details and swirls. Gaster straightened, waiting patiently as she unlatched the back and affixed it to her hair, twirling once she had it in, giggling at the pearl drops dangling just outside of her field of vision.

 

With his tiny guide appeased she turned and started skipping down the hallway, the arduous task of avoiding spiders coming so naturally to her. Gaster thought it best if he simply lagged behind with his eyes on the ground. He could never tell how close or far away he was whenever he went on these trips, almost as if the lengths and turns varied every time. It wasn’t impossible to imagine, though highly unlikely. Perhaps a simple trick. 

 

The tunnels began to widen and the webbing became thicker until it finally opened up into a large room. It was as if a bedroom had been thrown into the air, only to get stuck on the way down. A powder desk and mirror wrapped in silk strands several feet above him, strings of lights woven into the web itself cast a soft glow, assorted jewelry, metal trinkets, makeup and clothes resting amongst the web in a sort of chaotic order. “He’s here, mama,” Muffet called up, giving another excited spin. 

 

Somewhere deep within the webbing was a silken smooth voice that drifted through the strands unfettered, “What did the silent man give you this time, my little cupcake?”

 

Muffet seemed to know exactly where the voice came from, nearly flying up the strands and disappearing higher into the funnel-like web. The same voice laughed softly, “And do you like it?” Muffet’s answer didn’t come immediately, and though such pauses were common, it had always put Gaster in edge. He always thought highly of children and their incredible potential, but to have one literally hold hours of travel and work in the palm of her hand with a simple question was agitating. 

 

“Mm… yes! I like it, mama.” 

 

“Then I’m happy. Go and play now, the silent man and I have some business to discuss.” Gaster thought he heard some rustling, though if it was Muffet she did not leave the same way she entered. 

 

Then there was another noise, more rustling as another figure climbed down to where the royal scientist waited. It was clear Muffet inherited every ounce of grace from her mother, a tall curvaceous woman clothed in a revealing dress of colorful silk, deep umber skin dripping in bangles and intricate chains with precious stones. Soft metal clicks rang through the room as the bangles shifted with her six arms, gripping strand after strand to climb down to the floor. Five pitch black eyes regarded him coolly as she smiled, the sharp ends of fangs just peeking over her lips. Charlotte, the mother of spiders. “Hello Dr. Gaster. I had no doubt you would come as quickly as you have.”

 

Several soul hands appeared to take the pad of paper from him, facing it away from him and slightly to the side as two wrote in large font on the surface, ‘The wares you offer me have always piqued my curiosity. Above all however, seeing you is the highlight of my travels here.’ Charlotte laughed coquettishly, one of her hands moving to her lips, “Oh doctor. Still such a flirt, even when you know it doesn’t give you any leverage.”

 

‘I only speak the truth,’ the hands wrote as Gaster gave an unassuming shrug. Charlotte had not stopped walking toward him, and she did not stop until she was very close. She smirked as she placed one hand on his chest, another on his hip, another on his cheek and three on his side. “Only liars say that, darling.”

 

Gaster did not move an inch, not away or into the touching, just as he had when he first came here. To show signs of discomfort, or even eagerness, was a sure way to be at a disadvantage in any transaction, and the negotiations had indeed begun. Perhaps it would turn casual afterwards. She giggled softly, removing her hands as she turned and started to walk away, “Come see what I have to show you, doctor. I think you’ll be very interested in this piece.”

 

Following a few steps behind, Charlotte navigated through breaks in the webbing much more casually than Gaster ever could, keeping a close eye on the swaying of her long, braided hair to guide him through. She was leading him to the usual side tunnel where she kept allthings of special interest she wished to show him. Strangely however, the entrance was heavily webbed and would have been impossible to get through had Charlotte herself not pulled apart a small entrance for herself and Gaster. Once he stepped inside, he could see why.

 

At the far end of the short tunnel was a thickly webbed bundle lying on the floor, a human shaped and sized bundle. Gaster looked mildly surprised and pleased, though it only covered a part of those two emotions. Human bodies were usually mangled and even missing certain pieces by the time they landed in the Underground, on the rare occasion they did. Charlotte was good about having her spiders bring the pieces and leave them alone as much as possible. To have one wrapped like this meant that it was largely intact.

 

‘I must say, I am very impressed. Broken neck or spine, I would assume,’ the soul hands wrote on the pad. Charlotte simply waved her hand, offering him an opportunity to study it closer. Gaster walked forward at a casual pace, already bending at the waist to get a closer look. Like tumbling in a freezing lake, having the floor dropped out from under you, all of these things hit him at once as he froze immediately in place. His instincts screamed at him to not move an inch, as that is what the bundle had just done. It breathed.

 

Gaster scrambled to tame all of his fleeing thoughts and whirlwind reactions, slowly straightening. He focused on a simple question first; was it real? It would be uncharacteristic of Charlotte to trick him in such a way, but it was a clear question to answer. Slowly he walked around the bundle on the floor, giving it a wide berth as he examined it. A face of   textbook human physiology was exposed and sleeping soundly. It was a real human.

 

The second question… was many things. Questioning the good sense to keep it alive, to not use it for herself, or perhaps give it directly to the King. At the core of it was a simple question, which the soul hands wrote on the pad. ‘Why me?’ 

 

Charlotte sighed dramatically, tapping her chin as if in thought, “I thought for quite a long time about what to do with it. I considered taking the soul for myself, but then what would I do with it? Leave the Underground? Well, that would attract a great deal of unwanted attention, even with all of my discretion. And I would not be able to take my family with me, so what of it. Take it and return with more souls to break the barrier? You know my opinion on that, darling. Spiders have no use for sun; this is where we belong. Use it to become a god? Again, too much unwanted attention, and I am a goddess already.”

 

She turned up her hands and shrugged, walking closer, “I would not use it then. So, going by the old standby, I would sell it. But to whom? Naturally someone with a great deal of money. I had considered the royal family, but they have a tendency to do the noble thing. maybe condemn me for attempting to sell a human in the first place. Worse, use the soul to return to the surface. But you-”

 

Charlotte reached out and lightly caressed Gaster’s chin, “You reach beyond nobility, darling. Practicality. You study the things you need, break it down, and create new things. More importantly, you do all of this with discretion.” She gave a fanged grin, “So my answer is, ‘Who else?’ ”

 

Gaster smiled, having composed himself almost entirely by the end of her monologuing, ‘I am flattered, and would be more than willing to buy the human for a reasonable sum of mo-’

 

“Ten thousand, darling.”

 

His pleasant smile was immediately shot down, soul hand underlining ‘reasonable’ in one hard, swift stroke. Charlotte laughed, coyly stepping away closer to the bundle, “Supply and demand! You seem to demand this particular product very highly. And supply is… well,” she gestured to the human. 

 

Misrepresenting her wares? She would never. But Gaster knew when he was being played. A snarl twisted on his lips, straightening as the paper moved in front of him. ‘You do not want a living human, no matter how sedated, in your home. I know this, you know I know this. I have the means to restrain and utilize it properly, but do not think I do not know what it is. A ticking time bomb; hazardous material that I will not be gouged for. I am the only one capable of taking this off your hands, and I will not pay a premium for my service.’

 

The spider mother’s eyes regarded him coldly, the smallest of smiles on her face, a long silence hanging in the tense air between them. “You want a discount,” she purred evenly. Looking back, Gaster would know that was the moment he lost his gamble. She turned and looked over the human, gesturing an open hand to it. “You’re right. This human is far too dangerous to have lying around.” Slowly she began to close her hand, the strands starting to creak as it tightened around the human, “Let me dust its soul and then we can talk about discounts.”

 

Even here, Gaster hesitated a moment, considered the value of just a complete human body. The moment was all he needed to know that soul was his key to unlocking the secrets of several areas of study. He needed that soul. His hand shot out, about to grab her shoulder, hardly even touching her skin before her own snatched his wrist in a death grip as she whirled around, fangs bared as she stepped close.

 

“Do not take that tone with me, you uppity little child. The fact that this human is still alive and offered to you is by my good graces alone, and that will not save you from your disrespect. You will watch your tone, you will accept my offer or you can slink out of my parlor empty handed.” Charlotte let go of his wrist, allowing the royal scientist to step back with a snarl. “Decide. I am out of patience for you.”

 

Though his pride was wounded and his wrist sore he knew what his answer was. He had no other options. Odd how strong the desire could be for something that was impossible a few minutes ago. Taking a deep breath, the pad of paper that had been pushed aside was brought back into view, soul hands holding it up as the others wrote, ‘You are correct. I have forgotten my manners, and I do apologize for my behavior.’ A low bow coupled with his words seemed to smooth Charlotte over.  At the very least, she had moved from open hostility to aloof displeasure.

 

‘Ten thousand is fair, considering the rarity of such a unique item.’ A small pause as he considered a more… gentle push. ‘Please understand my predicament. I have no means to safely and discreetly transport the human, nor a means to keep it sedated unless I travelled to my new laboratory first. Your venom is clearly strong enough to neutralize the human. My only request would be a method of transport and enough venom to keep the human asleep to be included in your price. Once at my old laboratory in Home, I will happily manage both things on my own.’

 

Charlotte regarded him and his additions coldly, until she gave the smallest of smiles and nodded, “These stipulations seem fair enough, under the condition that my price is paid in full first. I wouldn’t want another one of your tantrums getting in the way of a smooth transaction.”

 

The name calling was starting to get a bit much, but he moved past it and bowed once more. ‘Of course, Charlotte. I will be very prompt with your payment.’ Somehow. He wondered how much exactly he was going to have to shuffle out of royal funds. ‘I am very pleased that we were able to end this on amiable terms. I will take my leave, as I have found my schedule in the next few hours to be suddenly very full. If you will excuse me.’

 

Soul hands bringing the paper and pencil back to Gaster’s own, he turned and started navigating his way through the webbing.

 

***

 

It was natural for some of the webbing to cling to his clothes as he moved through Charlotte’s room, though the unnatural pull of them tipped him off that something was amiss, his heart beating double time. “Must you leave so soon,” Charlotte purred behind him. There were a couple different ways that this conversation would go, and he was not interested in either of them. Gaster moved to turn and lift the pad of paper, but was stopped short when some webbing at his arm tugged and refused to let him move.

 

Glaring at the offending webbing, his soul hands appeared to take on the now impossible task, quickly writing on the pad, ‘Yes, as much as I would love to stay longer, I mus-’ Charlotte took the paper from the soul hands, swiftly plucking the pencil away and laying them both neatly on the web. His posture went ridged as she moved closer to him, “No, you don’t.”

 

Gaster used his free hand to simply sign yes as the soul hands tugged at the very stuck pad of paper, to no avail. “No,” Charlotte giggled as she pressed her body against his, hands going to his waist, hips and chest. In some ways he did not mind this turn of events one bit, but after being strong armed into paying ten thousand gold for his exciting new human body and soul, this was the last thing on his mind. 

 

He considered the best way to escape this entrapment without angering the spider mother all over again, but as his muscles jerked awkwardly between stepping back into more webbing and stepping closer to a spider who was already creating more webs with the tips of her fingers, Gaster was starting to see no way out of this predicament. It didn’t mean he had to be pleased about it.

 

He glared at her as he was pushed gently backwards, the webbing behind him now firmly sticking to the back of his coat, a hand trailing away to his other arm. Small strands of silvery web stuck where she touched, the other ends seeming to float to the rest of the web behind him. Gaster huffed as he gave her a displeased, exasperated look. 

 

“Oh darling, you actually can’t say it wasn’t on your mind the moment you stepped foot in here,” she purred, hands returning to the turtleneck he wore underneath. He could feel the curves of her body pressed against him through the silks she wore, and yet he couldn’t help but roll his eyes at a jest he had heard plenty of times before.

 

His whole world was suddenly a blur as he was pulled high up into the heart of the web by his shoulders, his coat and shoes left in the webbing far below. Charlotte watched on as his limbs flailed and tried to get his balance on a sea of strings, his chest rising and falling quickly. She took her time to crawl up to where he was, movements slow and sensual, the clothes that draped her body falling away as if they were also apart of the web.

 

Gaster could feel a blush starting to rise to his cheeks, his heavy breathing coming from more than having the ground taken from him. Chuckling softly, Charlotte’s sharp teeth nipped at the fabric of his pants as she climbed eye level to him, breasts pressed against his chest, “Looks like you’ve found some free time in your busy schedule after all, doctor.” 

 

Snarling, he glared at her until the very moment he could feel her sharp fangs teasing at his chin. Gaster shuddered as his eyes closed, stopping himself from tipping his head back the first time. By the third nip there was no stopping it. Hands on his neck, under his top, drifting under his pants, he was two seconds from abandoning his previous displeasure. 

 

The world gave another jerk and his pants were the ones left behind this time, three feet below him as Charlotte grinned up at him, hand on her cheek. “I think I like the view from this angle.” There was really no denying it. Dark purple slick painted the sides of the slit between his legs, obviously far more aroused than he was letting on earlier. Gaster sighed exasperated, giving in to his not disagreeable predicament. He turned his hands up in a half shrug before letting them fall to the webbing where he tapped his fingers against it expectantly. 

 

Charlotte crawled higher, hands trailing up his bare legs till she was level with her intended target, tongue sliding out and giving the slit a long lick. His toes curled as his head tipped back, gulping in breath as the first spark of pleasure ran up his spine, hips pushing forward until Charlotte’s hands pushed them back down. 

 

She seemed to know precisely where move her tongue to make the scientist abandon all sense, long laps bottom to top, occasional dips further in, lips suckling at his most sensitive spots as her nails left long, faint lines down his thighs. Gaster pressed his cheek against the webbing, hands slowly following the strands above his head as he gripped them tight, legs straining against the bonds that he faintly realized were not there before.

 

A sudden drop between Charlotte’s legs, a final piece of clothing left behind and Gaster felt his arms truly trapped in the webbing above his head. He may have whined if he were able, suddenly lacking stimulation and finding his face between the spider’s thighs. “First things first, darling,” he heard her voice above him, fingers pressing against his smooth scalp, “Get to work.”

 

Gaster liked to imagine he gave a look before diving eagerly to his task, purple soul tongue materializing in moments and lapping at the folds positioned perfectly in front of his lips. Holding his head close he could hear her purrs and gasps, each sound like a personal invitation to continue if her insistent hand at the back of his head wasn’t enough. 

 

As with all tasks set in front of him Gaster worked with skill and attention, tongue pressing and sliding along her slit, lips working in tandem with his tongue. Tasting the sweet juices covering his tongue it encouraged him to move exactly how she directed, slower, faster, deeper. His first warning was nails scratching his skin, then Charlotte’s gasps and moans of approval as she came on his mouth, wetness smeared across his lips.

 

When she pulled away to look down at him as he panted and glanced up at her, licking his lips, Charlotte ran her fingers down his jaw and throat, the touch sending jolts between his legs as he tipped his head back. For a moment he worried she would simply leave him like this, with his burning need and without a bit of relief. He wouldn’t put it past her.

 

Gaster gagged as something tightened around his throat and his whole world flipped on end. Webs stretched tight against his skin, binding all of his limbs tightly as he suddenly hung upside down. There was a moment of panic as he struggled to take tiny sips of air through his gaping mouth. Panic that turned into riotous pleasure as he felt Charlotte’s tongue slip between his legs, working between the folds to tease and suck at the bud of sensitive flesh. The pleasure was making him see stars in front of his eyes, little bursts of white that could come from lack of air as much as they came from pleasure. He pulled at the strands that held him in place across his chest, his arms, his legs, and he found he could do nothing to encourage more from such an artful tongue. The feeling alone seemed to heighten his pleasure, making it the only thing he was able to focus on. 

 

Like a wave or a shock, his orgasm crashed into him full force, doubly unable to make a sound as he came hard, Charlotte unrelenting until she was satisfied it was almost painful for him. Perfect pain through pleasure, Gaster seemed entirely lost in it, unsure when it ended. Until the web around his throat relented enough to let him cough and gulp down air.

 

Gaster’s eyes snapped open, quickly realizing that he had been flipped right side up at some point, Charlotte draped against his body as she looked intently at his face. She giggled as she watched him catch his breath and regain his bearings, clearly aware that she had nearly strangled the man in her web. “Aren’t you glad you stayed?”

 

He felt light headed, shaky and wonderfully blissful as the aftershocks of his pleasure continued to ghost through his body. Grinning as he gasped, he rose an eyebrow at Charlotte, then glanced back down toward the floor. Several tens of feet below him he could see his pad of paper and pencil still caught in the web at the ground.

 

Purple soul hands appeared wielding sharp scalpels, swiftly cutting both items free and bringing them up to where he was tied. Of course, Charlotte had heard the slicing the moment it happened, looking down to the floor then back to him with a displeased glare. The hands wrote and then displayed to the side of him, ‘Very. Now, where are my clothes?’

 

Huffing, Charlotte slid away and lounged in her web, waving a hand dismissively at him. His clothes had started to fall from where they had been caught in the web, right along with Gaster himself. Sliding awkwardly a couple of feet before snatching the strands between his fingers and toes, he chuckled silently as the hands wrote, ‘I will be looking forward to our next meeting, as always.’

 

Charlotte laughed softly, turning onto her stomach to get a better view, “There may be a next one, darling. If you can get down by yourself.” 

 

...Well then. Gaster looked to the web in his hands, grasped firmly in his prehensile toes, the long climb down, took all of these factors into account alongside his muscles that insisted on being jelly. And huffed, sure that he wouldn’t be able to climb down without a bit of rest. He looped his arms and legs back through the space in the web and hung there, not looking at Charlotte as she started to laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took a bit, a couple of life things caught up to me. Just know that I absolutely adore each and everyone one of you who kudo and comment, and thank you everyone for taking a look at my story. We're at the top of the roller coaster now, and the drop is gonna be steep. Hope you're ready. <3


	4. V2h5IGFyZSB5b3UgaGVyZT8=

Perhaps he had draped the body in a cloth to convince himself it was already dead. Of course it was not actually dead yet, but that wasn’t by some sort of attachment to the human. He had simply not decided what to do with it. Gaster himself sat in a simple chair across from the cold metal table he had positioned the body on, fingers carefully rotating the small glass bobble in his hands. “Now my friend, I don’t think I have to tell you how dangerous this idea of yours is,” a voice like someone far off seemed to echo in his head.

 

Gaster shook his head, his own thoughts coming in a soft whisper, “I am not going to keep it alive.” 

 

“I do not mean to doubt you, doctor, or call you a liar. But I have heard some of your stray thoughts, and I know you haven’t actually set the idea aside yet.” Gaster huffed, gesturing toward his half finished lab in a closed off section of the Core. Machines hummed and beeped as they struggled to get every conceivable reading off of the human as it lived.

 

“I will not be keeping a living human in a cage to study its particularly unique physiology over time.” Even as he thought this his stray thoughts seemed to mumble quickly in the background ‘fascinatinglongtermresearch’.

 

“I heard that! And I do not like the direction that is turning to.”

 

“I am not keeping the human alive,” Gaster’s whispering sounded more insistent this time, indeed firm in his decision without denying the fact that having a living human to experiment on was very enticing.

 

“Then I would ask you to put that thought out of your head and actually consider what you are going to do.”

 

Falling silent as he did what his friend urged him to do, he stared at the sheet intently. “I could… remove the soul. Intact, keep it separate. Carefully dissect the body from there, or perhaps observe how a whole human body decays.”

 

“The answer to that is… well, not in a good way.”

 

Smirking, Gaster raised an eyebrow, “I have watched legs decay, and you are correct.” Readjusting to a more comfortable sitting position, he tapped his fingers gently against the round trinket in his hands, “Very careful dissection it is, then.” ‘orwastetenthousandgold’

 

“Ten thousand! Maybe she was making up for giving me to you for free.”

 

“No, Charlotte would not sell a monster. She thought I could hel

  
  


 

Are you enjoying my dalliances, human? I am aware you are a human.

  
  


 

‘You know, I wasn’t even going to go,’ Grillby signed across the bar to the scientist that didn’t seem all that dissuaded. 

 

Pulling the bar stool toward him, Gaster sat and continued signing, ‘All the more reason for you to come with me. Would you honestly miss the prince’s first birthday party?’

 

Grillby flicked the bar towel over his shoulder, signing with both hands, ‘See, you’re using the word ‘party’. I don’t even go to parties all that often, not unless I pick the music and I don’t mix the drinks. But you’re talking about a “ball”. The super fancy version of a party where I’ve got to tuck in my shirt.’

 

‘Which I see you already are starting to do,’ Gaster grinned, nodding to the garment in question.

 

Grillby’s face grew hotter as he looked away, ‘The ends were getting caught in too much shit.’

 

A soul hand briefly touched his cheek, not helping the heat in the slightest but turning the bartender’s face to look at his own. ‘There is no one else I would want to go with,’ Gaster signed as he looked up at him intently. ‘I suppose I would have to go regardless, as that seems to be the kind of thing I am expected to do now. But I would not enjoy myself as much without you. Let me treat you, at least a little bit. We could even,’ Gaster shrugged, ‘ditch it half an hour in and wander aro

  
  


 

Odd. These things do not seem to be important now. And the other ones were? You seem to have some bias. Or maybe these things are as out of your control as they are for me.

  
  


 

Regardless of the fact that Chara seemed to understand his signing without the slightest bit of difficulty, Gaster continued to sign slowly and precisely for their benefit. Nonetheless, the reasoning seemed odd. ‘You say I am easy to read?’

 

The human child nodded as they munched at a chocolate bar, legs swinging back and forth under the table they both sat at, “It took me a while to get used to it, but it’s not that hard now.” 

 

Interesting, the terminology must be the result of some kind of human cultural quirk. In a sense, signs could be ‘read’ after all. Gaster smiled and nodded, ‘Well, I am glad for that. It is much faster for me to sign than write.’ He looked to the chocolate in the child’s hand and then back to them, ‘You seem to enjoy chocolate a great deal. You do not feel hungry after eating our food, do-’

 

“You know, you always have a lot of questions for someone who can’t talk,” Chara interrupted him without hesitation. Their expression was… vaguely annoyed, but mostly unreadable as they stared up at him. Gaster had to reign in his displeasure quickly; even a child knew to be polite. Even so, this was Chara and he would not get snippy simply because a child had erred. 

 

Gaster forced a small smile, nodding, ‘I have been told. I am simply-’

 

“Curious about me. I know,” Chara interrupted again. “But you’re not trying to find a way to kill me, are you?”

 

That was… entirely unexpected. The surprise and concern was plain on the scientist’s face as he searched for his words. He would never kill a child; was Chara worried about such a thing? Were they afraid of him? Gaster gave a sad smile, leaning forward on the table, ‘Chara, I would never do anything-”

 

The human’s attention was suddenly pulled behind him as Asriel came running ov

  
  


 

That is… infuriating, looking back on it. Yet, the wheel keeps turning. It does not seem that is the place we are stopping. Where are you going this time?

  
  


 

He could feel bits of broken glass sticking into his left hand, the fluid from the tank seeping into his pants as he sat on the floor of his laboratory hidden at the lowest level of the Core. The skeleton that was suspended inside had broken apart with the impact, a chair hurled at it with all the strength Gaster could muster in his rage.

 

It didn’t work. It didn’t resonate properly, it didn’t ‘click’, and now he was certainly out of time. It was a desperate attempt in the first place, but then, how many desperate first attempts had he had already? 

 

Gaster could hear soft footsteps coming down the stairs outside, knew who they were, and yet… he no longer cared. The click of a door latch, the clink of a blade against the wall as they walked in. All he could do was smirk. “I thought about becoming a god,” Gaster spoke in barely a breathy whisper, the only sound he could ever manage. No one would ever be able to hear him being so far away, but Chara would have no troubles. They ‘read’ him, of course.

 

“But that did not work. Did it? I can tell,” he lifted his hand and tapped against the machine his back rested against. “It was my first thought, so it was wrong. Twenty times? Thirty? More, I,” he took a breath, unused to whispering for so long, “I can not measure them all.”

 

His hand dropped back into his lap, eyes following it down and staring at it. Any moment the human would come and end it. Any moment now. Perhaps now. Perhaps... 

 

Gaster glanced back at the human who simply stood there, face expressionless. “...Kill me,” he urged, then grinned, the light of his soul tongue glowing faintly through his sharp teeth, “My rambling can not possibly be all that interesting.” They, it, smiled. Unnatural, dangerous, an almost impossibly disproportionate smile. Then they turned around and left, closing the door behind them.

 

It seemed like hours ticked by as Gaster stared at the door, something between panic and horror creeping into his soul as he realized he had just been left to sit and wait for the end of the world. The ‘reset’. Whenever it would come, however it would come, with who knows how many monsters left to be killed. He should grab the soul, stop them, kill them as many times as he could, try, do something.

 

Even as he thought this, the weight of hopelessness was crushing even his most base drive; to be killed so he wouldn’t have to wait. His hand had already been reaching toward the human soul lying peacefully in the open container that had once been connected to the large tank, stopped mid way, shaking from the pain shooting through his hand. It was useless, he knew, and so he knew of no reason to not take the soul.

 

Shards of glass dug deeper into his hand as he grabbed the crystalline human soul, fighting the reflex to drop it from the pain. Forcing his fingers to close around it, he lifted it from the dish and brought it close, resting the soul in his other hand before letting his shredded hand fall back to the ground, fingers twitching with renewed vigor.

 

Gaster’s hand cradled it in his lap, thumb brushing against the smooth surface. “...Huh. Who’re you?” 

 

The thumb paused as he looked down at the soul, unsure if he was surprised or too far gone to feel surprised. Unsure if he should be speaking to this human. Unsure if he should tell the truth. But then again… did it matter? He smirked a little, thoughts coming as whispers, ‘Your murderer.’

 

“Sorry to say pal, but I don’t think you’re right on that one. Got a pretty clear idea of who killed me,” the soft voice insisted as if he were right next to him. Gaster didn’t correct him. “Am I in Hell?”

 

His eyebrows furrowed as he half-heartedly recalled what he had read in the few old human books he could get his hands on. A place for souls to be tormented. He chuckled silently, “We both are.”

 

“Look at that, pit mates,” the human soul sounded like he’d smirked. At least the human was getting a chuckle out of this. Perhaps he should be laughing too, considering how completely and utterly insane this conversation seemed to be. 

 

“Hey now,” the human interrupted his thoughts, seeming to pause, “What’s your name?”

 

He considered several names, all of them his real name, but different contexts. W. D. Gaster, shortened to his last name Gaster, the Royal Scientist, the silent man. “Wingd

 

 

 

Finally. Let us not revisit that again. 

  
  


* * *

 

It would seem to be waiting on you. Utilize your commands and continue the story. Humans can not leave well enough alone, and you do not seem to be much different. Besides, it is pointless to stop. These are all in the past. Better I keep you here, where you can do no further damage.

 

* * *

 

Go on.


	5. Desperate Measures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gaster goes to great lengths for the sake of a possibility.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music: https://youtu.be/lxy0nWE3Q1M?list=PLUYc5lGXtVoSB6AAyTVvh07k1Fs8V1H2l

Smooth metal, ridges, wires, bolts. His soul hands moved over the outside of the elevator, tactile senses transmitting over a mile long metal shaft. He had pulled off this trick often enough accessing the switches that told the elevator to go down to his private lab hidden below all the other levels. That was not what he was doing. Eventually he came across what he were searching for, a metal box that served as the back up energy for the metal locks in case of a cable snap. Framing it in four hands, a fifth one reared back and drove a large knife into the casing of the box. Electricity crackled across the hands before they disappeared, the lone scientist snarling silently as pain shot through his arms.

 

His arms curled against his stomach as he doubled over, jaw clenched as he leaned back against the wall. Gulping down breaths, he slowly straightened, reaching out once again to continue his search. The back-up power was shot, the only thing left was the cable itself. It was nearly impossible to cut through the strands of thick metal twisted on itself, but he didn’t need to cut it, simply tamper with the mechanism enough to free the spring that kept it coiled. 

 

Gaster closed his eyes, soul hands sliding along the bolts that connected it to the top of the box, eventually feeling the indents for the tools. He conjured the correct one, several hands struggling to loosen it as another few began to dig wedges into the massive spring. He couldn’t feel much give on either end, trying desperately to slip the spring from its confines. 

 

Machinery turned, but not the one he wanted. Vibrations, like steps, not one set of footsteps, but many pairs. Looking to the grainy, black and white camera he watched two or three of his fellow scientists rush into the elevator and start pushing buttons. The cable started to roll in on itself, pulling the elevator up.

 

A different camera showed the top floor, empty for now. If the human was close enough to get to the elevator, standing just outside of the camera’s field of view, waiting for the elevator doors to open, then that would be it. He would have no more time. The spring began to coil tighter, moving the elevator up and scratching against the tools he had conjured. He dug harder, the bolt moving ever so slightly. The spring slipped, catching on the crooked casing, vibrating intensely as the elevator stopped. Suddenly there was nothing for his hands to touch.

 

For a few moments, there was no sound. Until it grew louder, metal raking across metal in some unholy screech, loud pings as the box smashed against the shaft on its way down. Pressing his back against the wall away for the door, holding his breath, the crash was like a bomb going off, dust and small bits of debris shooting in under the door. For something so loud, the silence that followed was louder. He did not want to continue, didn’t want to step out of the dark room. 

 

Turning the doorknob slowly, he held his breath as he looked out of the hallway. Twisted doors had been ripped out of their frame, rocking in place at random points in the hallway. Rocks had managed to find a way out of the walls, dust and smoke wandered in the air like a haze. Inside was nothing but a mangled mess of metal that was once the only entrance and exit to this level.

It was as if the silence had somehow thickened like a fog in the laboratory, nothing but the sharp echoes of his own shoes as he headed back into his main work area. The soft whine of the door, a pause, once more, and then the sound of the latch clicking back into place. Perhaps it was the hum of the machines or bubbling of liquids, but the oppressive silence seemed to have lifted in this room.

 

It was fairly large considering it was for the use of one monster alone, not that Gaster had ever minded much. At the moment almost every single machine possible had been moved to surround a single tall, glass tank that held the bones of the long dead human he had once dissected. To be fair, yes, he had killed the human, save for the fact that he had kept its soul. The heart shaped crystal floated in its own smaller tank, just as many wires attached to the outside as the skeleton had.

 

He knew exactly what the readings would be, but for the sake of accuracy he was running them again. Walking to the small screen that displayed various attributes and numbers, Gaster was assured that the readings had not changed. Various recognizable chemicals and qualities that could be found in all monsters, and apparently humans, save for five or six flags he could never figure out the purpose of. 

 

Stepping to the right he examined the other machine doing the same diagnostics on the skeleton, and again the attributes were mirrored, though to a far less degree. There was some truth to the concept of ‘living on’ in items dust remains were sprinkled on. Like a thumb print, the dust held a map of the attributes a monster had in life. And so it was in human remains. 

 

Clearly whatever it was that Chara was utilizing to create the time loops he had seen reflected in the Core readings, it would be found in the unknown attribute flags. If they were to be found at all. Shaking his head as if to remove it of the defeatist train of thought it threatened to barrel down, the scientist retrieved a pair of clamps from a side table, conjuring soul hands to remove the wires and tops of both containers. He had always been careful to never touch the human soul, not wanting to alter it from its natural state in any way. 

 

With it securely between both clamps he lifted the soul out of the liquid, slowly climbing up a couple of steps to the top of the larger tank and setting it inside. It floated downward, eventually coming to rest near the chest of the skeleton. Sighing in relief, he allowed himself a little smile as the hands placed the top back on. He had no fear that the viscous liquid would slow the soul down enough to not shatter at the bottom, the fact that it seemed to naturally gravitate to where it should be could only mean good things.

 

Climbing back down, Gaster settled himself in front of the main computer, fingers moving quickly along the keys. He had been working on something similar to this concept for the past year, a method to place a crystalline monster soul into a makeshift body that could be controlled by the soul. This was simply reversed. Instead of the means to live being provided by the body itself, the human soul would provide the means to live through the body. That was the concept, at least. He never thought he would intentionally be bringing a human back to life.

 

Inputting commands to begin the testing process, he set the machine to find coinciding energy, magic, vibrations, anything that would resonate with the unknown flags to make them stronger. With the commands given and the machine beginning the process, there was nothing to do but wait. Gaster sat back in the chair, turning it to face the tank, watching the skeleton and soul simply float. When his mind started to wander, he knew the waiting might be the death of him now.

 

It wandered to the monsters that were dead, those he knew, those he didn’t and those he would have almost prefered to die for. Perhaps the child was still a mile away, perhaps they had already found the mangled elevator. Perhaps now they would be making their way down the emergency exit on the higher floors. Like an itch in the back of his head, he knew what he had done was ‘wrong’, had not only killed four other monsters but had trapped anyone else in the rooms into a bottle neck. Though, really, did it matter? They were already dead anyway, everything they were since the human fell would be erased soon. All back to zero.

 

With any luck, any hope at all, this experiment would be the one new thing to happen in years, perhaps a decade. That alone was worthy of sacrifice.

 

\---

 

He wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep for, unsure of how long it had even been since dropping that elevator. At some point he had woken up from a previous nap in the chair, pleased to see that the system had pinpointed almost all of the unknown attributes and was working slowly to try and amplify them in both soul and bones. He was closer, and with the thought of everything ending any moment, he had grown paranoid enough to sit on the floor with his back against the door. Not that it would help anything.

 

The growling from his stomach seemed intent on telling him that he should have ate at some point. Admittedly if he had known about the impending apocalypse he might have enjoyed a meal and actually made his bed. He chuckled softly at the banality of it. 

 

The growling suddenly turned to an ice bath in the pit of his stomach as the sound of creaking and scraping echoed down the hall outside the door. Gaster’s feet flew under him, wrenching the door open and then closed again. He knew who it was and he knew what they were here for. As long as they didn’t know about the soul, they would move on after…

 

Gaster reached inside with his soul hands, materializing them where he knew the top of the powered down computer. He felt the edge press against his palms, gritting his teeth and struggling against the weight. Bracing his back against the wall, he used it as an anchor to push the soul hands forward. Eventually he felt nothing, heard the creaking and the subsequent crash on the other side of the door. As if on cue, Chara stepped into the hallway. Gaster panted, back still against the wall as the human simply smiled, dusty knife in hand. 

 

“You haven’t done that before,” Chara giggled as they pointed their knife at the metallic mess that littered the hallway. “That took me a loooong time to get around! But, I found a way in one of your windows. And trust me, that was tough. I think I fell five times!” They walked forward, one step, another. Gaster pushed himself off the wall, standing in the middle of the hallway, four hands conjured with scalpels and three more with large bone saws that crashed against the floor threateningly. Chara paused, though the grin didn’t falter.

 

‘Things are changing,’ Gaster signed, a half hearted grin forcing its way onto his face. ‘Does that not worry you? Perhaps I am getting closer to stopping you for good.’ 

 

The human laughed, something sweet and adorable that made the horror of the situation that much more poignant. “Not at all! It’s why I keep coming back. There’s always something just a little new, every time. Sometimes you’re in the room over there, and you don’t look very happy. Sometimes you’re in the other room down the hall, reading a book. I usually surprise you there. You’re my favorite surprised look.” The child mimicked the expression Gaster apparently had when he was stabbed in the back, bringing another round of laughter.

 

‘This is some kind of game to you, then. What happens when you-’

 

“But you talk sooo much for a mute,” Chara groaned as they rolled their eyes before a much colder grin spread across their face. “I  w o u l d  r a t h e r  b e  s t a b b i n g  y o u.”

 

The child sprinted forward, side stepping the scalpel that came plunging down on top of them and stabbing the knife toward the scientists leg, catching nothing but air. Gaster’s cuts were precision, targeting tendons and arteries, tiny areas on the tiny human that would be crippling if one of them connected. Gaster dodged the kitchen knife wielded by the relentless child, backing away slowly and stopping their momentum with sudden, crashing hacks of the bone saw.   
  
Gaster panted heavily by the time the child seemed to be getting frustrated with the fight. He barely moved his leg in time to avoid a sweep, but the child’s hand was close. There it was. His scalpel found the wrist tendon, and before the knife clattered to the floor his other was plunged into their cartoid artery. Blood sprayed as Gaster wrenched the bla-  
  
  
‘This is some kind of game to you, then. What happens when you-’  
  
The child growled softly and sprinted forward, side stepping the scalpel that came plunging down on top of them and stabbing the knife toward the scientists leg, catching nothing but air. Gaster’s cuts were precision, targeting tendons and arteries, tiny areas on the tiny human that would be crippling if one of them connected. Gaster dodged the kitchen knife wielded by the relentless child, backing away slowly and stopping their momentum with sudden, crashing hacks of the bone saw.  
  
Gaster panted heavily as he continued to move back down the hall, slamming the bones saws down in quick succession to stop the pursuit for just a moment, to no avail. There it was. The scientist was off balance and couldn’t move in time to avoid the crippling pain of the kitchen knife going through his thigh. He dropped to his knee with a grunt, and then there was a squish. He wasn’t even entirely sure if it… hurt. Not immediately, not until the blade was ruthlessly wrenched out of his gut and he doubled over.

 

He didn’t want to breathe, didn’t want to move as he clutched his stomach, knees hitting the floor hard as his eyes shut tight. The chalky feeling of dust poured between his fingers, somewhere in the back of his mind realizing that it wouldn’t last long. The pain would stop now. Now. ...Now? 

 

Taking a shallow breath, he opened his eyes and looked in front of him. Chara was climbing back outside the grate that served as a window, until the world went upside down and Gaster fell onto his side. He barely felt the floor through the pain, unable to do anything but clutch at his stomach. He wanted to be done now, please just stop. The edge where the wall met the door pressed against his back. No, this was fine. He just needed to stay here, right here as long as he could. If he would just be there when the world began again, then it would be fine. It would all be alright in the end.


End file.
